(A/N): Hello everyone! Welcome to my latest story! This one has been rattling around in my head for awhile but I've only now been able to have the time to actually start getting it down- and this story has been hardcore demanding to be written for the past two weeks or so.

I cannot promise when I will update this next but I can say that it will probably be sooner rather than later.

This should be rather obvious once you start reading but just so we're all clear, this story starts between the end of the Captain America movie (so after Steve is unfrozen) and before the start of the Avengers movie.

Shoutouts go to my amazing betas and friends singingmyheartsong and Hannbells for editing this chapter and just generally being there to throw around plot ideas with!

Hope you all are having an amazing weekend! Enjoy!

She stared upwards as the room started to shake around them. "What's going on?!"

Her mom glanced around as well. "Nothing good."

The ground started to shake so violently that she fell to her knees. "I… I think… there's something pulling on me!"

Kneeling down next to her, her mom put her hands on her shoulders. "You're going to be just fine, got it? You're going to go out there and you're going to prove everyone wrong."

"What's happening?" she whispered, staring at her Mom's familiar brown eyes- the same color and shape as her own.

"The spell shielding you is breaking."

She knew what that meant and by the look in her eyes, so did her mom. "What about Dad?"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Steady beeping was the first thing Hermione was aware of as she slowly drifted back into consciousness.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

She felt a vague sense of annoyance; the sound was keeping her from falling back asleep and she was so tired.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Hermione groaned and shifted. Her eyes flew open as pain shot up her arm at the slight movement. She looked around blearily, trying to figure out where she was. At first, all she could see was white and Hermione wondered for a moment if something had happened to her eyes before she realized that the walls and ceiling of the room she was in were completely white. She lifted her head up an inch and looked over to see what had caused the pain and saw that her entire forearm was wrapped in a white bandage. The memories came rushing back and she sat up with a gasp.

Bellatrix was standing over her, cackling with pure joy, as she hit her with the Cruciatus Curse and Hermione screamed as her body seemed to be burning from the inside out. She wanted it to stop. She needed it to stop. It felt like it went on forever and, in the back of her mind, Hermione wished she would die; that her heart would just give out so she wouldn't have to feel anymore.

Even though she was able to hear voices shouting and hands on her, all Hermione could concentrate on was the echoes of pain she had suffered at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange.

She lay on the ground, unable to move. It was like her body was frozen in place after having been given a reprieve from the torture. The slightest motion sent a wave of agony through her system; she could barely breathe it caused her so much pain. She could hear Ron screaming for her from somewhere below and tears started streaming down her face. Then Bellatrix was leaning over her and saying something, but she couldn't hear the words and she was sure she didn't want to. And then Bellatrix was kneeling beside her, and the knife was pressed against her arm, and she was screaming, and it hurt, but she couldn't move, and that made it worse because, if she was really as smart and strong as everyone believed her to be, then she should have been able to fight back even a little, but she couldn't, and that meant she was weak. Weak and pathetic, and, worst of all, worthless.

Hands were holding her down and someone was saying something close to her ear. She couldn't listen though, couldn't focus on the words be told to her, and she refused to stop fighting. Then, there was a slight pinch in her arm before everything went black again.

Hermione's eyes flew open. She tried to sit up but there was something across her chest, wrists, and ankles that kept them pined to the bed. Starting to panic, Hermione began twisting and pulling, desperate to free herself, but the restraints wouldn't budge. She was just starting to become hysterical again when she felt someone grab her hand and a low, soothing voice said, "It's alright, Miss. You're fine. Just calm down."

She turned her head and saw a well-built blond-haired man with bright blue eyes sitting in the chair next to her bed. Studying him intently for a moment, Hermione attempted to place him, to remember if she had ever seen him in the pictures of suspected Death Eaters Mad-Eye had forced them to study. It was then she realized that he seemingly had an American accent and he was dressed in button down shirt and khaki pants- clothes no Death Eater would willingly ever lower themselves to wear. Hermione tried to ask him who he was but all that came out was a faint croaking noise.

The man looked confused for a moment before he realized that her throat was too dry to speak. He grabbed a cup and a pitcher of water from the table beside her bed and filled the glass before placing a straw inside and holding it to her lips. She took a few sips. "Thank you," she whispered.

He set the cup down and leaned back into his seat. "You're welcome." They stared at each other for a moment before he shifted slightly, seemingly uncomfortable. "My name is Steve Rogers. Can you tell me what your name is?"

"Hermione. Where am I? How did I get here?"

"You're, uh, in a hospital and we were hoping that you could tell us that."

"Us?"

Hermione heard a door open and then a large dark-skinned man with an eyepatch over his left eye and dressed all in black stepped into her line of sight. "Hello, Ms. Granger. It's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. My name is Nick Fury."

She hadn't believed them when they had first told her what had happened. Frozen in time? Legitimately frozen, not having been put into a suspended state using magic or even been petrified like she had during her second year, but actually frozen and then hidden until a few days ago. The very idea of it was ridiculous, something out of one of those science fiction stories her mother loved, but after being shown several medical reports and a countless number of newspapers and several articles on a small computer called a laptop, she had finally accepted what they said. It was not March of 1998. It was the month of November in the year 2011. She had been gone for nearly 14 years and had seemingly not aged at all.

Hermione wondered how this could have happened. One moment she was being tortured by Bellatrix and the next she was waking up in a hospital 14 years in the future with no clue as to how she had gotten there.

"You were found outside a place called Stark Tower," Fury told her, staring at her intently. "Don't suppose you know why you might have been found there?"

"Stark," Hermione repeated, mind racing. "The only Stark I know of is the family known for designing military weapons and I certainly don't know any of them."

"That's what we thought," grunted Fury. "My agents asked Mr. Stark if he had any idea who you were, wondered if maybe you were left there as some sort of message, but he claimed to have never met you. Was very curious to know how it was you managed to drop out of thin air onto his doorstep. After we took you into custody, another agent recognized you as the War Hero Hermione Granger."

"Ha. Hero," Hermione chuckled, then wondered just how much pain medicine she was on. "Who is we?"

"Were called the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division- otherwise known as S.H.I.E.L.D."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Damn, that's way better than mine."

Apparently, S.H.I.E.L.D had been aware of the Wizarding World for quite some time and Fury, the current director of the organization, had even suspected that she might be the Hermione Granger once he had seen a picture of her- she had apparently grown even more famous after her supposed demise- but hadn't announced his suspicions to anyone in the event that he was wrong. Everyone was desperate to know where she had been and what had happened to her, but she was as clueless as the rest of them.

Fury paused during his pointed explanation to ask, "Do you want to know what happened after?"

"Was Voldemort and his Death Eaters defeated?" was all Hermione asked.

"Yes."

"Then no, I don't want to know anything else."

It was that knowledge of the Wizarding World that had allowed S.H.I.E.L.D. to create the technology that had told them what had happened her, or more accurately, what hadn't. Having run several tests on her, they had been able to determine that, whatever had happened to her, had not been done with magic. At least, not with the kind of magic that she practiced. However, they could not say what exactly had occurred, but they could say that something similar had happened to one other person.

Hermione glanced over at the blond man standing silently in the corner. "I'm assuming you're the other person?" she asked. "Otherwise, I doubt there'd be a real reason for you to continue standing in here when you'd clearly rather be anywhere else. It's not like Fury needs protection from me."

The man blushed slightly, only meeting her gaze for a moment before glancing down. "So they tell me."

Fury snorted. "More like you ran like a bat outta hell when you first woke up and found yourself right in the middle of Time Square. Got a face-full of proof there."

Unable to fault the man, Steve, for trying to leave, Hermione just stared at Fury. "Why would you make a headquarters in Time Square? While I'm sure the amount of people help cover the comings and goings of your agents, it would also put a large number of civilians in danger should something happen. Plus, the rent must be astronomical."

Hermione could vaguely remember learning about Steve Rogers, or Captain America as he was better known as, in primary school but their history books never really said too much about him; he was more of an "American" thing she recalled one instructor saying. All she really knew was that an experimental formula had been used on him that had turned him in a "super soldier". He was the only one that this procedure had been done on since the formula had been lost almost immediately after it had been successful, and he had apparently died towards the end of the war. Sitting next to him in Fury's office as everything was explained to the two of them, Hermione surmised that something else had clearly occurred. The small part of her that was still Hermione, still that child that had wanted to know everything, wanted to learn more about his history and experiences but knew better than to ask; if she wasn't willing to talk about what had happened to her, why should she expect him to?

Since they were both dealing with somewhat similar situations, Fury had assigned Steve to stay with Hermione at all times until they could figure out what had happened to her.

"The Cap's serum might have been what saved him, but you can't claim the same. Until we can figure out what happened to you, it'd be best if you had someone to keep an eye on you."

Hermione glared at Fury. "I see. So, I'm going from the British government's Undesirable Number Two to the American government's honored prisoner. How lovely."

"You have no idea who took you, where you were held, or how you were frozen," Fury argued. "This is a case of better safe than sorry."

"I was saved from suffering more at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange," Hermione retorted. "There's no evidence this was done with malicious intent!"

"And there's no proof that it wasn't. This isn't up for debate, Granger. You can either stick with Roger's or you can stay locked up in here. Choice is yours."

Steve was polite enough towards her, even though she had been unceremoniously shoved off on him, but she could tell that he was uncomfortable around her. Despite the fact that he had sat with her for several days while she recovered in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s private medical facilities, they hadn't really spoken to one another beyond discussing what had happened to her and a few things about the future they both found themselves in. Mostly, the two of them had sat in a traumatized sort of silence, both trying not to be overtaken by memories of the past and attempting to draw comfort from the fact that they weren't alone in this. Honestly, it baffled Hermione how anyone could think that sending the two of them off together would be in any way a good idea. They were both lost, emotionally/physically wounded from their respective wars, and unable to properly function in this new world they'd found themselves in. How were they supposed to support one another if they couldn't even truly look after themselves?

Hermione understood Steve's awkwardness, she felt it herself, but she hoped that they would eventually be able to be friendly towards one another. The logical part of her reasoned that she wanted this because it would be uncomfortable for both of them to be in close quarters if they weren't at least somewhat comfortable with one another. The darker part of her, the part of her mind that had been twisted by the Horcrux and becoming increasingly louder, whispered that if even someone who had been through a similar experience couldn't connect with Hermione then no one else would ever be able to.

After they had been dropped off back at the apartment provided by S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hermione had been given a tour of the place, she decided to try and start a conversation with her new roommate.

"Excuse me, Captain Rogers," she started.

"Just Steve, please," he interrupted. "I'm not a captain anymore."

She smiled. "At this point, I think you'll always be a captain, whether you like it or not. In any case, I just wanted to let you know that I really do appreciate you doing this for me and I'm sorry for the inconvenience. I'm sure being stuck with me is not what you were hoping for, but I promise to stay out of your way as much as possible so as not to disrupt your routine."

Steve seemed surprised. "It's no problem, ma'am. I have no issue with you staying here. It's just," he rubbed the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable, "I don't think I'm going to be the best company at the moment. I'm still pretty lost with this different world and it's been hard transitioning into this new way of life."

Hermione gave him a soft smile. It really hit her then that he was from another time period, one where it would be considered indecent for him to be living with an unmarried woman he wasn't related to. "Considering the fact that I am only a few years younger than you, and that I'm currently staying with you, I'd prefer if you just called me Hermione. Also, don't worry about keeping me entertained; I can't imagine what you're going through. I don't know what I would do if I woke up and found that I was essentially gone for 70 years and was suddenly in a whole new world," she admitted. "I've only missed 14 years and I still feel like I'm trapped in a dream, a nightmare."

"It hasn't been easy," Steve admitted. "I sometimes think it's still 1942 and then I go outside or turn on the TV and remember that it's not."

"What have you been doing to get caught up? I'm guessing there's not really a support group for people who find themselves in the wrong decade," Hermione attempted to joke.

Steve chuckled and sat down in a chair. "Not much really," he admitted. "I'm still just trying to accept the fact that this is my new reality."

"That's understandable. I doubt you ever imagined something like this would happen."

Steve studied Hermione for a moment before commenting, "You seem oddly accepting of your new situation. Is that because things like this aren't as uncommon for magical folk?"

Hermione sat down on the floor and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She decided to be honest with him, both because he probably already knew he details of what happened to her from whatever file S.H.I.E.L.D. had on her and because she felt that she could trust him. "Before I… went to sleep, I suppose, and found myself here, I was being tortured. I was in so much pain that I thought I was going to die, wished that I would. I suppose the reason I'm so calm right now is because a part of me doesn't believe any of this is real; part of me believes this is all something my mind conjured up to protect me from the pain. Or that I went insane. Either way, there's no point in getting upset over something that isn't true."

Steve nodded slowly, looking concerned. "I can understand why you might think that, the same thing happened to me when I first woke up, but the longer you stay in denial the worse it will be for you. You can't hide away from the truth forever."

"I know, but I don't know if I can," Hermione admitted. "One moment I was in the middle of war holding the title of Undesirable Number Two, and the next, I'm lying in a hospital bed being told that I've been asleep and frozen for over 14 years, and the war is over. I've been fighting since I was 11 years old; I can't just turn off the solider in me."

Shaking his head, Steve muttered, "11 years old… children have no place in war." Leaning forward slightly, arms resting on his knees and hands loosely clasped together, Steve continued, "I get it, I really do. Have you thought about maybe talking to someone? I'm sure your old friends would be happy to know you're not dead."

Hermione snorted. "Whom exactly would I talk to? The only person who could possibly understand what I'm going through is you. Have you tried talking to someone?"

"No," Steve admitted. "I'm not too good with the whole 'discussing my feelings' thing."

"Neither am I. And as for my friends, I can't talk to them. Not yet, at least."

"Why not? It's not fair to them to be kept in the dark. They shouldn't have to spend another day mourning your loss." Despite seemingly attempting to keep his tone even, Hermione could hear the judgement and pain in his words- pain at knowing that she could do the one thing he never would.

"I know," Hermione said, her voice cracking with repressed emotions. "I know it's not fair, but I can't see them, not yet. For so long, it was just Harry, Ron, and I against the world, but they've spent 14 years living without me. They've moved on with their lives, but I haven't.

"They know how to live without me, but I don't know how to go on without them. Until I can do that, until I'm sure I can see them again and be around them without the risk of becoming too dependent on them, they can't know. If they're still the same as I remember, as soon as they know I'm alive, they'll do everything in their power to find me, and I'm not ready for that yet." She honestly wasn't sure that they would, but she wasn't ready to openly face her fears concerning the two boys she had grown up with.

Her rational thought process surprised Steve; he would never have thought things through that much if he had been in her situation. He hadn't had to- all of his friends were dead, except for Peggy. He winced slightly before pushing thoughts of her away. His situation with Peggy was entirely different than Hermione's. "That's pretty logical reasoning for one so young."

Hermione laughed. "As I said, I'm not that much younger than you and you should know better than anyone that war changes a person, makes them grow up far too fast."

Steve blushed. "Apologies. That was rude of me."

She waved off his apologies. "No apology needed. After all, I'm sure the women in your time acted differently than I do."

Steve's thoughts drifted. "Not that different."

Hermione was curious as to what he was thinking about but didn't ask. They sat in silence for a while, just watching the shadows on the walls, before Steve finally looked at Hermione and gave a slightly strained smile. "Are you feeling up to eating? I was given strict instructions to keep you watered and fed."

"That makes me sound like I'm some sort of pet, or maybe even a plant," Hermione grumbled. Steve gave her a real smile.

"If that's the case, then I feel obligated to warn you that I've killed many a plant in the past."

She laughed. "Good to know. Don't worry yourself too much though; I'm pretty self-sufficient."

"Can't do that, ma'am. A good officer always makes sure to look after his soldiers," Steve told her with a smirk.

Hermione arched her brows. "Is that so? Well, fair warning to you, I'm far more used to giving orders at this point than I am at taking them. And no more calling me ma'am! If you have a habit of forgetting things that quickly then you must have been the worst soldier."

Steve laughed at that and Hermione felt proud to have finally managed to get him to give a real laugh. His situation was far worse than her own; he was the one that truly need to be looked after. She hopped up from the floor and went over to Steve, holding out her hand. "Alright then, Soldier Boy, let's go get us some food."

Steve just sat there for a moment, taking in the view of this small woman with large brown eyes and curly hair that was reflecting the light of setting sun, and admitted to himself that he could have been stuck with far worse than her.

Hermione groaned and draped herself over the library table. Steve wasn't faring much better than her but he, at least, was still able to keep his head up.

"It's too much," came Hermione's muffled voice. "We've been gone for too long and there's too much to catch up on."

"It'd probably be easier for you if you just focused on one country's history at a time instead of just trying to learn everything that ever happened in a specific year," Steve pointed out calmly, though he too was feeling overwhelmed. He didn't understand how so much could have happened in such a short time. At least libraries were still a thing- neither of them were very comfortable with computers and would have been lost if that was all they had to rely on for getting caught up. It was also a way of killing two birds with one stone since Fury had been encouraging them to leave the apartment more. They had to stay together at all times while out and Steve was positive that there were also agents tailing them at all times, but Fury seemed to have gotten it into his head that the illusion of freedom would make their adjustment quicker. It was too soon to tell if he was right though.

Hermione's head shot up. "I can't just not learn about the other countries!" she nearly shrieked. "Everything that happens in one country affects others! I can't ignore that!"

Steve gave her a stern look. "Keep your voice down. And I'm not saying don't learn about the other countries, I'm telling you to focus on one at a time."

Her ire immediately withered away. "Sorry," she said softly. "I know this must be far more difficult for you than it is for me."

Steve shrugged. "I've always been more of an action guy, only learning about what I found to be important. You're far more detail-orientated than I am, which is probably why this has been harder for you than me."

Hermione flopped her head back onto the table with another groan. Steve was so understanding and sweet and she wasn't used to that. Realistically, she knew that most of her feelings towards him were just in response to the situation they'd found themselves but that didn't change the fact that she was growing to care for the so-called 'man out of time' far more than she should; she knew that her fascination with him would never result in anything. He was wonderful, very charming and handsome, and she knew girls far prettier than her would come flocking to him once the public found out about him. Though, she was rather sure that Steve wouldn't notice any of them either since he was still grieving over a girl from before. Hermione didn't know who she was- Steve hadn't told her anything about his past- but had seen him holding a photo of a beautiful woman in an old-fashioned uniform one evening before he'd hidden it away in his breast pocket.

"You okay?" The concern was clear in Steve's voice. "Maybe we should take the rest of the day off."

"I'm fine," she told him, sitting up again. "Although, I wouldn't mind taking a break for the day and just going for a walk or something," she added, seeing the overwhelmed look on his face.

Steve flashed her a sheepish but grateful smile. "It would be nice to stretch my legs."

They both stood up and collected the books they had been looking at, having decided against bringing them back with them, and set them down on a nearby cart as they had previously been instructed to do by a librarian. As they were walking towards the door, Hermione had an idea. "Movies!"

Stiffening slightly in surprise at her outburst, Steve turned to her and repeated, "Movies?"

Blushing, Hermione hastily explain, "We should get some movies to watch. Perhaps Disney movies to start with and work our way forwards? Start with the older ones and then work our way forward?"

Thinking it over for a moment, Steve finally gave a small smile. "The last time I went to the pictures was to see 'Dumbo' with a friend. Wouldn't mind seeing what other movies Disney put out."

She relaxed at his agreement, happy that he seemed supportive of her idea. Grabbing his arm, she led him over to the children's section and its wall of movies. "It seems that everything is on DVD now instead of the tapes my family would watch movies on, but I'm sure it won't be too difficult to figure out how to work the machine."

Steve bit his lip, doing his best to hide a smile. "You mean, hopefully, it won't be too difficult for you to figure it out at a safe distance and then tell me what to do, right?"

"One time," Hermione huffed, scanning over the library's selection. "I broke the television one time."

"The screen cracked, and it was literally smoking out of the back. And don't you mean you broke 'the telly'?"

Hermione was thrilled that Steve seemed to be growing more at ease with her; the man she had first met was barely able to hold a proper conversation with her, let alone tease her. That didn't keep her from properly responding though. "Just for that, I'm going to make you watch 'Bambi'," she declared, pulling the movie from the shelf before also reaching over to grab 'Cinderella'. "I had thought to spare you the pain of this, but you made me change my mind."

Peering over her shoulder, Steve shot her a confused look. "A movie about small animals is supposed to be a painful threat?"

Spotting a copy of 'The Adventures of Ichabod Crane and Mr. Toad', Hermione bent over to grab it before marching over to the checkout counter. "That's what everyone thought when they first saw the advertisement for it."

Reaching out a hand, Steve gently grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her to a stop. "Hey," he started, obviously hesitant. "Maybe… maybe we could also grab a show to watch. Start working our way up to modern TV."

Beaming brightly at him, she nodded in agreement. "Great idea! Though, I'm honestly not that familiar with American shows. The only two I know of that would be good to start with are 'I Love Lucy' and 'Leave it to Beaver' but I'm sure they have those here."

"What about shows that were well-known in Britain?" he inquired as they wandered over to the shows section of the DVDs by the adult section.

Flushing, Hermione kept her focus on searching through the cases in front of them. "Off the top of my head, I can only think of one and I think it's a little too on-the-nose for our situation."

"Really? What's it called?"

"Doctor Who," she muttered, hesitating for a moment but explaining, "It's about a time traveling alien."

Steve snorted. "Yeah, does sound pretty relatable for us. Wasn't there an episode on earlier though? Looks like a pretty modern show to me."

"Apparently they're doing a remake or something for it. The show originally started back in the 50s. I… I used to watch it with my parents."

Moving over to the D's, Steve found almost an entire shelf for 'Doctor Who' and some of the covers showed older images than others. "If it's still on, it's gotta be pretty good. I wouldn't mind trying it out for myself."

Slowly moving back to his side, Hermione scanned the titles available and carefully pulled out a collection of episodes from the first Doctor. "If you're sure…"

"I'm sure," Steve stated, watching Hermione intently. "As long as you don't mind?"

"Not at all." Hermione clutched their pile of DVDs to her chest and turned to go to the check-out counter.

Hermione took in a deep breath of the cool evening air and let it out with a sigh, feeling herself relax.

Steve chuckled. "Better?"

"Yes," she admitted. "I'm sorry for shouting before, while we were studying. I know better than to act like that, especially in a library."

"It's fine," Steve reassured her. "This is hard on all of us."

"How are you able to do that?" asked Hermione, honestly curious. "How are you able to keep such a level head?" How are you still so kind? she wanted to ask. How have you not just lost it?

Steve shrugged, staring ahead. "That's just who I am. I guess I'm used to staying calm in hard situations."

"A born leader," Hermione said, softly.

Steve glanced over at her and smiled. "So I've been told."

They walked in silence for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Hermione was studying the different aspects of the city, taking in all the cars and lights. Her family had lived in London her entire life, she was used to thriving cities, yet New York was unlike anything she had seen. London was historic and timeless, a balance of the past and the future. New York was the opposite, focused on just the future with only small remembrances of what it was. "What was it like here?" she found herself asking. Steve looked at her, eyebrows furrowed, and she clarified, "What was it like here when you were growing up?"

He turned back to the street in front of them, the way it used to look overlapping with how it was now. "There used to a pizza shop there," Steve finally told her, nodding towards a slightly run-down building that had a for sale sign stuck in the window. "My friend used to make us go there at least once a week."

"I've never understood everyone's love for pizza," Hermione admitted. "The ones I've had haven't been that good."

"That's because you've never had New York style pizza." He smiled at her and her heart skipped a beat. "You haven't lived until you've had the pizza here."

"Well, if it's that good," she smiled back, "then I insist you show me what I've been missing."

"It'd be my pleasure."

"There's no way your father would drop the spell without telling us," her mother stated, voice low. "If it's breaking, it's because he can't keep maintaining it."

She couldn't stop the shudders coursing through her. "When I get back, what's going to happen?"

"I don't know. I wish I did but the magic thing was more your father's expertise than mine. You have to be ready though- he did the spell to protect you and if it's failing, there's a good chance that whatever's waiting for you out there is what he was trying to save you from."

"What do I do?"

"You watch everything and keep your head down," ordered her mother. "And once you find whatever it is after you, you use what we've taught you. Don't just fight your war- you gotta win it."

Nodding, her jaw tightens. "If this world is disappearing, does that mean I won't see you again?"

Smiling at her, her mother cupped her jaw. "No. The spell connecting all of together is still working. I'll find you- I promise. If not in your mind, then in the real world."

Feeling herself about to disappear, she reached up and squeezed her mother's hand. "I love you."

"I love you, too," her mother whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Be brave."

And then everything faded into darkness.

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